


Letters to Wales

by miniminmin



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, Original Characters - Freeform, more tags to be added along the way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-22 17:51:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniminmin/pseuds/miniminmin
Summary: Following the arrest of her husband, she knew that she had to do something-anything to get her name back.Even if it means giving up her life as she knew it.





	Letters to Wales

**Author's Note:**

> ellloooo
> 
> please note that this is my first fic posted in this site
> 
> feel free to comment if you're unsatisfied with my work and ill try to make up for it!
> 
> (also forgive my shitty attempt at old british jokes)

* * *

 

 

Your ears ringed as the sounds of footsteps slowly faded. The sky was grey today, accompanied by the soft pitter patter of rain. Some had managed to seek refuge in your locks; some had landed on you cheek and some landed dangerously close to your eyes making you squint.

 

The sound of a pistol being reloaded quirked your ears and you quickly attempted to scramble to your feet, but the aching pain that blossomed from your shoulder prevented you.

 

Not to mention the pounding in your skull and the small pool of blood forming from your wound. A small black bird landed on a tree to your right and you scoffed at the irony.

 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the cold barrel of the pistol against your skull and the sound of the clip being pulled back. “Requiescat in pace.” The irony in his voice made you want to wretch all over his shoes.

 

You closed your eyes.

 

 _Bang._  

* * *

 

 

It’s hard to believe that merely two weeks ago, the Frye twins had both stepped foot on London’s soil. In that span of two weeks, Whitechapel had already become liberated.

 

The Blighters that once ruled the streets seemingly disappeared and replaced by a new gang named; “The Rooks.” Where or how this gang came to be remained a mystery. The identities of those who lead them was just as confusing as the other countless theories concerning them. London’s people were a mess. Unbeknownst to them, the leader; leaders of this gang were the same people who walk the streets of London without suspicion. The same people whose base never stays at the same place two times, henceforth the almost impossible ability to track them.

 

They were the same people who vowed to liberate London.

 

“I would like to assume that you’ve managed to track down the origins of the syrup?” She was met with the sounds of heavy footsteps gliding across the floor. Evie sat on the sofa opposite of the wall of targets. A book securely perched on her hands,she watched Jacob pace back and forth in the cart, nearly toppling over when the train lurched forward.

 

“Pace any further and you’ll be leaving marks on our carpet. I assure you, you’ll be the first to clean it up.” Jacob merely hummed as he walked to the wall filled with strings and pictures. He rearranged a few piece of strings before moving to the desk and grabbing a map.

 

Evie sighed and surveyed the cart they were in. Papers were scattered along the area Jacob stood, books scattered haphazardly across the floor and weapons adorning each corner of the cart. The dark wood blended well with the different shades of red furniture and she couldn’t help but sigh on how “Jacob” his cart was.

 

“Got you, you lousy bloke.” Jacob clapped his hands obnoxiously loud and marked an ex on the map and drew a line from The Thames to the northeastern corner of the City of London.

 

Evie closed her book and placed it gently beside her. “What are you up to?”

 

“So, I managed to destroy the production company, yes?” Evie raised a brow.

 

“But I realized ‘bloody hell that isn’t going to do anything.’ Yesterday, I overheard from one of my lovely Rooks that an important shipment was to arrive today. A big problem however, was the blurry location.”

 

“And this shipment is important because?” Jacob looks at his sister, expression bordering smug and seriousness.

 

“It contained the needed paraphernalia for creating more syrup.”

 

“Big word, Jacob.” Evie mused. The man tapped his forehead twice before returning to the board of targets.

 

“Luckily, I managed to find out where the next shipment is heading to.” Jacob quickly rushed over to the small rack containing weapons and grabbed the first sword cane his hands clasped on and walked off to the end of the cart. Evie wondered where and how he got that information from, but knowing her brother, it was probably in more or less discreet ways.

 

“Are you seriously just rushing off there? With no plan whatsoever?"

 

“Managed to make it this far. It still wounds me that you think I plan anything.” Jacob places his hand on his heart and exaggerates a pained expression before winking and grabbing his top hat. He salutes her and jumps off the train, disappearing into the thick smoke and tall metropolitan buildings.

 

Evie rolled her eyes and stood, eager to leave Jacob’s cart and find solace in her own.

 

* * *

 

 

The sounds of birds chirping and the busy chatter of the townspeople signaled the start of a new day. Sunlight filtered from the window and gently caressed your face.

 

Let’s not romanticize waking up in the morning shall we?

 

Sunlight threw all it’s hatred at you and bled from the window, almost blinding you. You groaned in annoyance and shifted your body weight to face the opposite wall. The light may no longer have an effect on you anymore, but the heat from the window forced you awake.

 

You sat up the bed and groaned, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes.

 

“Already awake, darling?”

 

A voice called out to you from another room. You felt yourself smile as you moved out of bed. The mattress dipped from your weight as you slipped on your slippers and walked to the source of the sound. The smell of fresh tea and bread invited you into the kitchen and you closed your eyes, savoring the scent.

 

“It tastes better than it smells.” You opened your eyes and rolled them at the man walking towards you.

 

His blond hair curled ever so slightly at his temple and his facial hair array. In his left hand, he held a cup of warm tea and on his right a small plate with an even smaller piece of pastry. You took a seat, the one he gestured at, and promptly tied your messy hair before indulging yourself in the meal.

 

He took a seat opposite of you and ate his own meal in silence, a fond look ghosting at your eating from once a while.

 

“It’s rare to see you awake this early.” You said as you sipped your tea, cringing at the raspy tone of your voice.

 

The moment the warm liquid hit your throat, you stuck out your tongue and visibly cringed at the bitter taste. The man in front of you gently pushed the plate of sugar cubes, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

 

“I was about to tell you, until you decided to choke one me.” 

 

You raised one eyebrow and wiggled it jokingly. He sighed at your childish demeanor and spoke only after you finished adding sugar to your tea.

 

“I received news about a shipment today.”

 

“What for?” Harvey fiddled with his fingers, particularly on the finger with a bronze ring identical to yours.

 

“It’s a shipment from India. Some sort of rare tea leaves. It was said to be shipped Westminster, the Queen’s palace itself.” Your eyes widened in excitement and Harvey stood from the table to stand beside your seat.

 

“They chose our shipment factory for this. And if we deliver it safely, no damages at all, we’ll be paid handsomely.” There was no denying the excitement in his voice. He took both of your hands in his and gently ran his thumb over your own bronze ring.

 

You stayed silent, enjoying the solemn atmosphere. Your tea had been finished long ago, and your fingers grew sticky form the sugar coated pastry. The man before you didn’t mind at all that his own hands were starting to collect the melted sugar from your own hand. A thought crossed your mind, though brief, was enough to cause you to remove your hands from his grasp.

 

“What about the Blighters? They must know about this shipment too. Harvey, please don’t tell me that you’ll be driving that carriage.”

 

Your voice grew quiet. He looked at you, face eerily blank, before removing your hands from his arms and settling it to your sides. He smiled sadly once more.

 

“I’ll be fine, my little Chestnut.” He ruffled your hair, chuckling at how you slapped his arms away lightly.

 

“That doesn’t ease my nerves at all.”

 

“Will it help knowing that I’ll be accompanied by the Metropolitan Police?” You sighed and nodded, reaching out for his hands and giving it a squeeze before tending to the table.

 

“Perhaps you can tell me about it at dinner. I’ll be making broth. I also managed to convince Eliott from work to loan me a slice of brisket.”

 

You were scrubbing a plate when Harvey leaned at the counter beside you, a solemn look gracing his face. You raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“I won’t be home by dinner I’m afraid.”

 

The window in front of you showed the view of three children happily playing with a dirty rugged football. Your heart grew heavy with every passing second, the idea of losing Harvey becoming more prominent in the back of your mind.

 

“When will you return?” Harvey fiddled with the stray patches of cloth that fell from your ratty nightgown before speaking up.

 

“Tomorrow morning. 6:00 a.m. on the dot.” Satisfied with the squeaky clean dishes, you turned around to face him and gave him a stern look.

 

“Promise me then, Harvey Hughes. Promise me that you will return to this home tomorrow unharmed.”

 

You stuck out your slightly damp, pinky finger. He rolled his eyes and chuckled before hooking is own pinky finger with yours. You smiled brightly at him before taking a quick glance at the clock behind his head. Shock traveled across your body as you realized the time.

 

“Shit. Harvey, you’ll be late for the next train!” You grabbed his hand in a rush and led him into the front door. You placed his bowler hat on his head, fixed his coat and handed him his favourite umbrella before pushing him out the door.

 

Laughter graced the front of you home as he turned around and waved you goodbye. You watched him hail a carriage and step in inside. Before shutting the door however, he quickly requested something from you.

 

“Do you mind if you could deliver a letter to Annie in my place? I saved a few coins for the stamp at the bottom drawer of the dresser in my room.”

 

You gave him a nod, and watched his carriage slowly disappear. Considering that you had to leave for work as well, you retreated back into your home and prepared yourself for a long day at work.

 

The sun had risen high enough and had officially graced the sky completely with its light and gentle warmth.

 

* * *

 

 

“Now, if you put these two words together, you get?”

 

You pointed at the word at the chalkboard, expectant look on your face.

 

“Butterfly.” A chorus of small voices answered.

 

“Very good.” The group of children yelled in glee before settling down once more. Your hands glided through the board, clouds of chalk briefly finding home in your nostrils before placing the eraser down.

 

Today’s class was no different from yesterday, aside from the few empty seats. It was no mystery where they went. It was either an ‘absent’ from working too hard at a factory or being forced to work at the another manufacturing establishment. No in between.

 

As much as it disheartened you, you focused on teaching the children present now. There was no use in worrying about things you couldn’t change, after all.

 

The school bell rang in the middle of your lecture and the swarm of children immediately ran outside to play or indulge themselves in food. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the sounds of youthful joy before whipping your head to the amount of papers on your desk. You were surprised to see a little boy standing in front of you.

 

“H’llo miss. You’re prettier up close.” You chuckled and leaned down to meet the child’s eye level.

 

“And where did you learn such charming words, hmm?” Your arm reached out to ruffle his hair and he smiled at you.

 

“From my pops! He says to always tell pretty girls how pretty they are.” You noticed a gap in between his teeth and took a mental note to tease him about that when he’s more comfortable with you.

 

“Well, I’m sure you tell all the pretty teachers that.” He shakes his head roughly and hands you a letter before running away. You giggled at his shy behavior and stood up, gently placing the letter in your purse and taking note the difference between Annie’s letter and yours.

 

The papers on your desk were not going to carry themselves, so with gentle hands; you picked them up and walked to the teacher’s office.

 

The walk through the halls was peaceful, the sound of your heels clicking and clacking through the marble floors becoming a white noise to entertain yourself with. The large arched windows casted a natural silhouette of the trees and some birds managed to land on their branches. You smiled as you heard their soft tweets. Some windows were opened slightly today, so you reveled in the sweet aroma of flowers, mixed with the scent of yesterday’s rain.

 

The moment was quickly shattered when you heard booming laughter from the other side of the teacher’s office.

 

You were 6 feet away from the door, how can this woman be louder than a trains whistle?

 

“I tell you Bertha, that man is nothing but a cheatin’ lyin’ pig.” You rolled your eyes at the thick Irish accent, before twisting the door knob and entering the room.

 

“Aye, it’s Hughes’ wife. ‘Urry up and sit down will ya? It’s story time.” The woman waved at you to sit beside her desk. The moment you got comfortable with your sitting position, she gave you a rather harsh smack in the back before cackling once more.

 

If it weren’t for the fact that this woman was your close friend (and senior), you would have given her a smack across the head as well. Preferably with your heels.

 

“Good morning to you too, Eliott.”

 

“See what I’m talking about? This woman is too ‘womanly’ for her own good.”

 

_Does that even make any sense? Bloody hell._

 

“Eliott, you’re stressing the poor girl out.”

 

“It’s fine Mrs. Hearth.” You gave the woman a smile. She was a warm-hearted woman, such a shame she had to leave the city in such haste.

 

Starrick never tolerated those who were incapable.

 

“Aye, it’s not at all. I tell ya, you let people push you around too much.” You could smell the alcohol with every exhale she took and you wrinkled your nose discreetly. Your eyes darted down to Eliott’s attire and saw coal marks across her shoulders.

 

“What makes you say that?” You took off your coat and placed it on her shoulders, trying to make it seem natural, but your coat barely managed to cover her burly figure.

 

She gave you a look and sighed, grasping your coat tighter.

 

“You barely do anything to stop me, don’t’ya? If I were you, I’d bash me head against a wall. Or smack me with a heel.”

 

_Oh god, you have no clue._

 

Thankfully, she changed the subject to something else which gave you enough time to read over your class’s worksheets. The lively atmosphere served as a lovely ambiance to your busy form. Your thoughts keep darting to the letter that little boy gave you, so after marking the final paper, you rummaged around you jungle of a purse and took out the letter.

 

_Dear Mrs. Hughes, My name is Reginald, but my pops calls me Reggie, so I guess you can call me that too!_

 

_I would just like to say thank you for taking care of us and that I really like you. Will it be okay if you come to my wedding tomorrow? My dog Rufus is getting married to Allie (my neighbor's dog!)  and she wants you to be the best woman! Pops always told me to find a woman who you like just as to do things that are important to you, so I thought of you!_

_Just don’t tell my pops you’re coming over, he’ll get mad over food again. Please come! It would make Rufus (and me) very happy!_

 

_Reggie._

 

 

You inwardly cooed at the boy’s innocence, before you felt someone’s breath against your cheek.

 

“Is that a love letter?” Before you could respond, the letter was snatched away from your hands and into the hands of Eliott’s.

 

She reads it over quickly before looking at you with mild shock.

 

“I didn’t know you were into “that”, lassie.” She gave you a mortified look. You snatched the letter back and gently stuffed it into your bag before retorting.

 

“Someone actually appreciates my teaching ability Eliott. It’s not as what you think, you and your absurdly lewd thoughts.”

 

Eliott stares at you before bursting into laughter, a few other women joining before she calms down. The room was generally quiet now, save for the sound of paper’s being passed and the distinct chattering. Amidst all the distractions, the Irishwoman beside you managed to secure your attention again by tapping your shoulder. You looked at her, hoping your face showed enough annoyance.

 

“I didn’t want to talk about this with everyone else listening, but I’ve just been concerned. Are you happy these days?” You hummed, conjuring up a new study plan.

 

She chuckled once more, but this time with less heart.

 

“I’ve been through 3 marriages, Hughes. I can tell when you’re feelin’ down because of some bloke.” The ink from your pen had momentarily stopped and grabbed a new one from the shelf beside you.

 

“I prefer to live my marriage life in peace and private Eliott.”

 

“Aye, that’s what every young woman says, but we all appreciate a lil’ bit of advice from time to time. Tell ye what. Try spicin’ up yer day for him. Surprise the lad with a fresh meal. Some flowers maybe? Ah, no. How about some new knickers for him to take off?”

 

You gently slapped her arm and shushed her, causing some of your coworkers to glance at your table.

 

“Eliott. Keep your mouth shut for a minute, will you?” She followed so, but stared at you expectantly. You sighed before speaking.

 

“I don’t need to do any of that. I’m just..” You trailed off, biting your lip.

 

“Just worried for him, is all. He keeps working overtime lately, so I might be feeling a bit deprived.”

 

Eliott raises her brow.

 

“Of affection! Affection Elliot. God, you absolute git.”

 

You two continued your work for the time being, content with the productive atmosphere.

 

“You know.” She started, hands finding their way the messy papers on top of her purse. “If I were in yer place, I would find a way to end things with him. Considering yer situation, I highly doubt I would be happy.”

 

She said every word with sincerity, hands focused with arranging every paper to their designated file. This wasn’t the first time having such a light-hearted conversation turn solemn. You’ve known Eliott since you moved to the city of London and you trusted her with your heart. She knew every secret you had and vice versa. You really do take her advice in good nature, but some things are just easier said than done. Before you could give her a reply, the bell rang signifying your next class.

 

 

Eliott quickly stood up and stretched, some bones popping, and gently took off your coat and draped it gently across your shoulders.

 

 

“Still want that slice of brisket?” You shook your head and stood up, grabbing your purse and the freshly marked papers and walked side by side with Eliott through the halls to your next respective classes.

 

* * *

 

 

The smell of fresh flowers invaded your sense of smell as you strolled along the borders of the two boroughs of Whitechapel and London’s city. The bouquet of white flowers in your hand served as a backup plan in case the postal service refused to accept your letter to Annie. You constantly thanked the gods for having an extra stamp and keeping the letter in pristine condition, for your local post office held prestige in all their services. The current problem right now was the opening hours for the office itself.

 

You personally placed the blame on your school’s headmistress for keeping general meetings so late and in result, making you 10 minutes late until the postal systems closing time. Luckily, the people at booth nine would anticipate this; the result of you being constantly late every time you had to send a letter, but this was more of an embarrassment than an achievement.

 

You were only a few miles away to the building before a child ran right into you, causing you to drop your bouquet and stagger.

 

“Sorry miss.” The boy said in haste, tugging his hat to hide his face. You muttered a ‘no problem’ before standing up and offering him your hand, but he ran right past you and into an alleyway.

 

“Odd.” You looked back down to the bundle of flowers and made a move to pick them up. Something felt off. You shoulder seemed to be lighter than before. Your hand reached into your purse, only to find it grabbing air. You did a double take and quickly realized that you’ve been pinched and attempted to run after the child yourself.

 

“Come back here! T-Theif!” You tried to push past the busy bumble of people but to no avail, the boy was lost from your sights. You heard footsteps from behind you, and you saw a brief flash of a black coat disappearing into the same alleyway the boy ran into. You pushed harder from the crowd and finally made it past. You leaned against a wall, panting heavily, closing your eyes and letting your head hang low.

 

“Is this yours, ma’am?” A thick velvety voice called out to you. You opened your eyes and whipped your head upwards.

 

 _Wow_.

 

You weren’t usually the type to ogle at people, strangers no less, but the man in front of you was ridiculously attractive. His face was all sharp edges and defined cuts, with two distinct scars on his face; one on his right eyebrow and left jaw. You resisted the urge to step closer and touch.

 

With every passing second, the ring on your left finger became heavier. He raised a brow at you.

 

Were you staring too long? Did he notice?

 

Managing a ‘thank you’ before grabbing your purse from his hands you snapped out of your haze. You rummaged across your purse and found that both your letters were crumpled. You groaned in annoyance, there goes your day.

 

First Harvey leaving, then the guilt tripping from Eliott, then getting your dress wet with mud, and now the impending doom of having to pay extra for the late entry fees. The stress you felt had managed to compile and irritation slowly settled in every corner of your body.

 

“You’ve been staring at that bag for quiet an unsettling amount of time.” The man quipped and did nothing to ease your irritation.

 

“What’s it to you?” You snapped (much to your dismay) at the attractive stranger, before storming off.

 

“A thank you would’ve been nice.” He yelled from his spot, as you managed to storm off quiet the distance. Some people had started whispering amongst themselves due to the ‘unwomanly’ behavior you exhibited, but you couldn’t be bothered at the moment. All you wanted to do was go home and rest the day away. You gripped your bag tighter in fear of losing it again and quickened your pace to the postal office.

 

The doors were a mere inch from closing before you managed to run up the stairs to the building, muddied shoes slowing you down a bit.

 

“W-Wait. Please. I have only but one letter to send.” You panted with every word you uttered.

 

The man managing the doors rolled his eyes and opened it slightly for you before slamming it shut, preventing anyone else to enter.

 

“Late again, Mrs. Hughes.” You heard a lock being twisted and footsteps approaching you.

 

 

The man from the door walked past you and straight to the small booths located at the back of the building. You looked down your mud stained shoes and rubbed them on the welcoming mat as much as possible before following him. The silky red carpets looked as if they were constantly being cleaned, and walking across the marble floors seemed a bit rude considering the state of your shoes. Buildings like these always made you feel small. The high arching domes decorated by banisters of the queen’s coat of arms and the flag made everything feel more regal. Pillars spiraled high up into the ceiling, stopping short at the openings of the windows placed strategically on the sides of the domed roof. Small booths lined up at the back of the building, and couches were placed here and there making the building seem homey. Your favourite times to visit where of those when the sun casted shadows on the floors, creating an illusion of a final destination. A sort of Valhalla, if you will.

 

“You are aware that you have to pay an additional fee as compensation for our work hours, yes?” The man said in monotone, clearly wishing for his job to be done.

 

“Forgive me so, I ran into a bit of trouble. I also had a bouquet of flowers prepared as a token of apology, but an urchin managed to pinch me and-“ The man on the other side raised a brow at you. You awkwardly laughed before grabbing the creased letter from your purse. As an attempt to smooth out the letter, you quickly placed it flat against the table and gently pressed your forearm across it. You handed him the letter, and a few piece of coins before waiting patiently for his instructions. Considering the amount of times you’ve been to this office, you practically memorized the memos he gave you as well as the terms and conditions.

 

“And this is to be sent to?”

 

“Annie Pennsworth. St. Hearthrow Cathedral in Wales.” The man behind the booth stamped a small slip of paper and handed it to you. You took it with both hands and stashed it in your purse. The man wrote down a few words on your letter before waving you off.

 

“Take the back exit.” You followed his instructions and exited the building, relieved to finally feel the warm sun against your skin once more. Hailing a carriage and giving him the directions to your home, you felt your muscles tense and eyes begging to close. The moment you stepped through you front door, you lazily walked to your bed and fell face first into it; not bothering to change your muddied dress.

 

* * *

 

Your eyes shot open.

 

Someone was knocking on your door. You looked around your room and saw nothing but darkness and the soft muted light from your window.

 

Did Harvey finish up early? With a yawn, you got off the bed, wincing a bit from the position you slept in.

 

The knocks continued; three knocks each after a few seconds.

 

Your body felt heavy as you stalked off to your front door.

 

_Once he steps foot in this house, I’m going to murder him. Lousy git, disturbing my sleep. Should’ve just used his damned key._

 

You stopped in your tracks, hand flying to the railways of the stairs you stood at. The room felt cold. Harvey always used his key if he came home early. Usually, he would make tea and head off to bed.

 

Your eyes searched their way until it reached the coat hanger and saw that the spot that held his bowler hat was empty.

 

Something was off.

 

With silent wary steps, you made your way to the front door. In the corner of your eye you spotted a broom and you rushed to it, praying to the gods that you made as little noise as possible. Broom in hand, you made your way into the front of the door. The closer you got to it, the harder you heart beat against your chest. You extended your hand and shakily reached for the curtain beside the main entrance.

 

You made the smallest movement you could manage and were able to peak outside. You saw a flash of red, and your mind went blank.

 

_Blighters._


End file.
